Establish Justice
by bobness
Summary: Arthur Kirkland had come to America for politics, not for love. It was pure luck, then, that the very man who hired him as a campaign manager ended up bringing more romance to his life than Arthur believed possible. But can he keep up a relationship while Alfred's political career is on the line? Political USUK AU. Rated T for mature situations, rating subject for change.
1. Prologue

**I promised a political USUK fanfiction, and I delivered. A bit later than I wanted to, but what can I say? A certain someone made me procrastinate.**

**Without further ado, have a shitty prologue. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

"You're gonna do fine."

Alfred's voice was reassuring, a gentle reminder that Arthur wasn't alone in the world, but then the noises of the studio came rushing back to him. Side-stepping a man with a camera, Arthur started to fret again.

"I could very well ruin your entire career," he pointed out. "God, if I say one wrong thing, you could be done for."

Alfred snorted. "Aw, come on, who in their right mind would hate a gay politician?" he asked, an air of humor in his voice. "People go ga-ga over rainbows and shit, even more so if a politician is into rainbows and shit."

"Alfred, honestly, this isn't about being gay or straight."

"The only reason they're interviewing you is 'cause you're gay," Alfred deadpanned. "I mean, you know how many times I've had to talk about how gay I am? It's like, hello, can I please discuss politics and what I'll do to help the people? Being gay won't help a damn soul, that's for sure."

Arthur sighed, remembering not to run his fingers through his hair. It took him forever to get it to look partially nice. "Lovely. I'm being interviewed because I'm gay. Not because I'm an influential member of society."

"Babe, you're a campaign manager dating the guy you were supposed to be managing. It isn't very interesting." Alfred's laugh filtered through the phone and Arthur couldn't help but smile slightly. "The only reason people _like_ it is because we're into rainbows and shit. Hell, I'm pretty sure that's the only reason they like _me_."

"Oh, come off it," Arthur responded, shaking his head. "Alfred, _you_ are an influential member of society. You help the people, and you're a brilliant man."

He could practically see Alfred's wide grin of pleasure. "Oh, darlin'," he drawled out. "You do flatter me. Now, go on live television and flatter me to millions and millions of people, okay?"

Which brought Arthur right back to reality, and made him remember his fear. "I have no clue what I'm supposed to say," he admitted, trying not to glance at the clock. It was a reminder that his interview started in less than ten minutes. "I know we discussed it before, but you weren't speaking clearly-"

"It was morning."

"-and I was trying to make myself look sort of decent." Arthur, far too used to Alfred's interruptions, continued as if he heard nothing. "So I didn't exactly catch everything I probably needed to catch."

Alfred groaned. "Sweetheart, they're interviewing you in, like, five minutes."

"Eight," Arthur corrected.

"Whatever. I don't have time to explain everything."

"Just explain some, then." When Alfred didn't respond, Arthur raised his eyebrows. "For me." Still no response, and Arthur couldn't help but grumble under his breath. "Alfred, explain or your ass will be sleeping on the couch for a week."

"It's my house!" Alfred whined, but he quickly said, "Okay, short explanation; talk about rainbows and shit."

Arthur let his free hand curl into a fist. "Alfred F. Jones!" he snapped. "I'm going to _ruin_ you!"

"Hey, what did I say before? They're real into me being gay, God knows why. If you talk about that, no one can put you down unless they want their house egged or something. Just do that and you're in the clear."

When the crew called out the five-minute signal, Arthur realized he would have no choice but to follow Alfred's advice. "Fine, fine. I'll talk about our lovely, gay life, and how gay you are, and how gay our bedroom is, and how gay your cat is, and how gay my fucking eyebrows are, because-"

"-Because that's all they care about," Alfred finished, giggling like the overgrown child Arthur still believed he was. "Knock 'em dead, tiger!"

He had to hang up then, for he was being gestured to step onto the stage. Once hit with the lights, he felt ill, and was overly thankful for the chair that was offered him, right across from the hostess, who seemed friendly enough. Arthur had only watched her show a few times, usually when Alfred was on, or when one of Alfred's political friends was on. He never imagined he himself would be sitting in the spot of an important guest. He wasn't sure if he had the credentials to fulfill that role. But he wasn't about to complain, especially not when he was about to be on live television.

He didn't hear the countdown going on, but he did hear it when the hostess, Miss Kate (so she said), introduced herself.

Almost instantly, it seemed, she turned and continued. "With me today I have Arthur Kirkland, the young and handsome boyfriend of President Alfred Jones."

Mentally, Arthur added in the F., and he could imagine Alfred doing the same. Of course, a few seconds later, he realized it was his turn to speak. "Oh, er, yes, thank you. For having me, I mean. And for the compliments, really."

He felt like an idiot.

The crowd didn't seem to think so, though. They clapped for him, and Arthur wondered if the lights and slight makeup would hide the blush that was creeping into his cheeks.

"So, Mr. Kirkland, when exactly did you move to America? You're native to England, aren't you?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, I-I am native to England. English born and raised, I suppose. Um, let's see, it's been...a little over ten years? Yes, I do think...twelve years, I believe."

"And how many of those years have you been working with President Jones?"

"Well, he wasn't the president back when I knew him-" Arthur was sort of hoping they would ask more about his life in England. "-but, twelve. All twelve years I've been here have been spent with Al- President Jones."

Miss Kate grinned. "Oh, so President Jones was one of the first politicians you worked with, was he?"

Nodding again in agreement, Arthur responded, "The first, actually. It was a bit difficult trying to become a campaign manager. I had much to learn about American politics, as I had studied Political Science in England first."

Hopefully, that would be a good conversation topic, and that might lead them to discuss his own life, rather than his life with Alfred.

However, it seemed his boyfriend was correct; everyone wanted to know about their relationship. "How did the two of you start becoming close?" Miss Kate asked, staring him straight in the eye. Arthur shifted, uncomfortable, as she continued. "Was it a gradual thing, or too many late nights out working?"

The crowd laughed and Arthur was positive everyone could see his blush by then. "Er, it was, uh, more of a gradual thing." He cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to fall in love, certainly not with a politician."

"Do tell us how it happened."

Arthur wanted to tell Miss Kate to calm her tits.

"It's a rather long story," he chose to say instead. "I wouldn't want to bore you."

But the crowd was cheering for him, and Miss Katie looked about ready to piss herself. "Oh, no, we have plenty of time!" she exclaimed. "I'm sure everybody would like to know!"

_Talk about rainbows and shit_. Alfred's voice filtered through Arthur's head, and the Briton couldn't help but give a small chuckle. "Fine, yes. I suppose I can indulge the world just this once." He ignored the second round of cheers. "Let's see...I'm inclined to begin when our relationship started, but then many things would be left unexplained. Do you mind if I-"

"-start off from the moment you met President Jones?" Miss Kate settled back in her seat. "I'd be delighted to hear that far back."

Arthur glanced out over the crowd, his green eyes scanning for a moment before nodding. "Well, I moved to America to engage in a far more exciting life of politics," he started, and then let his mind wander to the past, to the very moment he laid eyes on Alfred.


	2. Chapter I

**And here comes Bob, carrying a bad chapter. Whatever. At least you get to see the meeting between Alfred and Arthur, hm?**

**And thank you to the lovely guest reviewer who is clapping for me! *claps along and makes a song while wearing a thong***

**Warnings? No, not really. Slight cursing, but it's even less than the little prologue thing was, and probably some bad grammar and things that need editing because I suck well and don't get betas for the majority of my stories. 8D  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

Arthur always knew he was gay. From the moment he was old enough to catch the eyes of pretty, young women, he was also old enough to dissuade them from continuing forth in their efforts to woo him, with the plain and simple words, "I like men." It was never a problem, really. They always seemed to understand, and because he didn't allow them the chance to pursue their interest any further, he didn't have to break any hearts.

However, despite the fact that he knew of his sexuality even before dating, he made no move to start up any sort of relationship. He was always far too busy in studying and preparing himself for the busy life of politics that he knew would lay ahead, what with his field of education and the degree he gotten while in school. He was aware that he could have set out to be an observer, or some sort of commenter, but he'd much rather be up in it all, struggling to reach the top.

"The thing is, though," he explained to his friend one night over a good beer at the local pub. "I'd rather not take the spotlight."

His friend blinked. "I'm not quite sure I follow you, Arthur."

With a sigh, Arthur tried again. "I mean, Francis, that I just don't think I could handle a life in the spotlight."

"No, I got that part perfectly fine," Francis responded, giving a small smile. "What I fail to grasp is how you want to be in the center, but you..._don't_ want to be in the center. Isn't that slightly redundant?"

"Yes."

Surprised at Arthur's bluntness, Francis raised his eyebrows and looked slightly annoyed. "Well, then, how do you expect to do that? Be in it all and...?"

"And not be in it all?" Arthur rolled his eyes. "What you fail to realize, Francis, is that there are other opportunities for me to be in it all without being in it all."

Francis nodded, waiting for him to expand on that thought, which Arthur did without fail. He was always one for explaining things.

"I can manage someone's campaign. That way, I can be in it all without, you know, actually being in it all. I don't have to be in the spotlight. I might be part of it, certainly, that's always a possibility, but I'm not going to be the face people will discuss. I will be helping to lead everything, but I'm not going to be famous."

"Oh." Francis smirked. "I do believe you've found your calling."

"Calling my arse. I just assumed it'd be better than becoming prime minister and being miserable all the while, or some shit like that."

"I don't think I would be miserable if I became the prime minister," Francis responded, a thoughtful expression coming to his face. "On the contrary, I do think it would-"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Belt up, frog, you have about as much chance becoming the prime minister of England as I do becoming the president of America."

Francis scoffed and sat back in his seat, then eyed Arthur curiously. "And why _Amérique_?"

"What ever do you mean by that?"

"I mean exactly what I said. Why did you choose to bring up _Amérique_?"

Arthur clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and sat back. He had been meaning to bring up his change of location for the past week or two, but he was still unsure about everything himself. Francis, as much as he loathed to admit it, was still his best friend, though, and deserved to know about such plans, even if they _were_ plans in the making.

He cleared his throat and took a sip of his beer before saying, "I wish to move to America."

"You're joking."

"Dammit, why does everything I say have to be a joke to you?" Arthur sighed. "Look, I've been in contact with the landlord of an apartment complex down there, and he's offering me a fairly good deal. I don't have too much, so I-"

"I don't understand." Francis' voice rose slightly in confusion and desperation. "Why can't you manage a campaign here, in your home? Moving to the States, so far away, is...well, it's plain ridiculous!"

"It's not ridiculous," Arthur snapped angrily. "It's something I want to do. Look, I won't say this often, and I do despise even mentioning it, but more people watch America's actions than they do the U.K.'s. America plays a huge impact on how things turn out in other countries, and I wish for the best of the world. If I'm going to make a change, doing so in America is my best option."

Even Francis seemed to be clear at that point, though it still didn't take away the distress from his eyes. "_Oui_, that...that makes sense, I guess." He glanced across Arthur's shoulder and chewed at his lip. "Where exactly are you moving to, then?"

"Virginia," Arthur responded without a moment's hesitation.

"Virginia?" Once again, the confusion was back. "Are you certain? Virginia's in the south. From what I've heard, the southern states of America stone gay people."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't be an idiot. They do not _stone_ gay people."

"Well, they want to."

"Some do," Arthur pointed out. "Some people do want to stone homosexuals in Virginia. Some people do want to stone homosexuals in New York, California, hell, even here. They'd want to stone homosexuals in Canada and France and Spain and every bloody country in the _world_. People will always want to stone homosexuals. And, in fact, it's the same the other way around. I've met one or two homosexuals who want to stone straight people, or religious people, or any sort of people they believe means harm to them."

He sat back in his seat, shaking his head. "Virginia is no worse than the rest of America. Sure, the people there are traditional, and largely religious, but I'm not going to Virginia to be gay. I'm going because it's close to D.C., and there are plenty of good political opportunities there. I've been closely following one young man online. He has an astounding sense of justice, and while it seems he's a little too caught up in himself, he means well. I've spoken with him, too. He needs a campaign manager."

"And he wants _you_?"

Arthur scowled. "When you say it like that, it makes me honestly wonder what you think of me."

With a small wave of his hand, the Frenchman laughed. "You're so adorable, _mon ami_. The only thing I think of you is how good you'll be in bed."

A furious, red blush came to Arthur's face, and he began digging through his pockets for his wallet, only pausing to snap, "Go to hell, frog."

"According to the kind people in the state of Virginia," Francis said, wiggling his eyebrows. "I'll see you there."

Arthur groaned once before slapping some money down on the table. "Honestly, belt up, Francis. I'm sure Virginia is a fine enough state. The mountains look lovely."

"And the people?" Francis grinned. "How about this young man you wish to manage? What's he like?"

The Briton fumbled with his hands for a few seconds, unsure of how to respond. "H-He's not bad," he muttered. "His name is Alfred, and...I mean, he's quite good-looking. Younger than me, it seems, but he's...he has some very handsome features."

"Uh-huh." Francis nodded, still grinning. "Why don't you go for him?"

And then Arthur glared again. "He's from a Christian family," he growled quietly. "I'm not going to impose on his religious practices. Besides, I'd never fall in love with a politician. If I'm dedicating my life to politics, I'd much rather go for someone who has absolutely no connection with anything political. I need _some_ sort of normalcy in my life, after all."

It went silent for a few minutes, and Francis' face screwed up in concentration. "Hold on," he said, tapping his fingers on the bar before him. "If he's a Christian, I...wouldn't he go _against_ gays?"

"He's running as an Independent," Arthur responded, though he knew that didn't answer Francis' question.

"_Oui_, but does _he_ know you're gay?"

"Of course not!" Arthur snorted and turned away so that Francis couldn't see his blush. "I-I wouldn't want to make him uncomfortable. But I do agree with many of his viewpoints. He's a smart lad, and he's willing to learn new things."

Francis ran his fingers through his hair. "You're allying yourself with one who wishes to stone gays, aren't you?"

That was when Arthur stood, slamming his hands down on the table (and instantly regretting it, for it was rather sticky). "I _said_," he snapped. "Shut the fuck _up_ about that! And I'll tell him when I deem it necessary. I'm going for politics, not for love." He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and draped it around his small frame, frowning all the while. His eyebrows were furrowed, both with thought and irritation. "I've made up my mind. I _am_ going."

He failed to mention he made up his mind just to set Francis off even more.

Unfortunately, it just amused his friend. "Ah, I will miss you. Tell me the date, and I'll come to see you off."

"Like hell you will," Arthur mumbled, then left the bar, stomping extra loud to remind Francis that they were fighting and angry with each other.

Francis didn't seem to get the memo, though. He never did.

* * *

The trip to America was very uneventful. Arthur didn't even have much to pack, as he earlier stated, and he figured he could buy most of the furniture at a nearby store when he settled into his apartment. After all, he'd used a sleeping bag before in some cases, especially while in college, and he'd be able to use it again.

He did love the mountains, though. He stared in awe as the bus rode along the streets. Sure, the majority of the large mountains were in the distance, but it was still a pretty sight. And not nearly as rural as he imagined it to be. Southern, sure; the city he was staying in had the classic Southern look that he had seen everywhere online and in movies, but at least it was fairly modern.

"Well, Francis, you're a liar," were the first words out of his mouth when he called his friend that evening. "The people in the area are very polite, and it's not just a horde of uncultured farmers. And no one has stoned me."

"There's always tomorrow, Arthur," Francis replied with a chuckle. "So, I assume the apartment is nice?"

Arthur nodded, then reminded himself that he wasn't speaking with Francis face-to-face. "Ah, yes, it really is. I'll be going out to buy some furniture tomorrow, but everything appears to be in working order, and-"

The doorbell rang just then, and Arthur blinked.

"Were you expecting anyone?" Francis asked, and the Englishman realized his friend had heard it, too.

"Er, no, not...not particularly." Putting the phone between his shoulder and ear, Arthur quickly moved to answer the door, still a bit confused. "It's probably the landlord, though. I might have to-"

But, as the door swung open, Arthur fell silent, mouth opening to gape at the person on the other end.

"Howdy!" came the distinct voice of none other than Alfred F. Jones.

And the distinct looks, and the distinct _smell_, god, Arthur could smell him all day long and never be tired. At least he was well-taught in the ways of hygiene. _See, Francis_, he wanted to say. _These people are civilized._

Of course, he didn't say that. He cleared his throat instead and returned the wide grin that Alfred was giving him with his own, tentative smile. "H-Hello, Mr. Jones," he responded, bringing out his hand for a shake.

"Jones?" Arthur almost forgot Francis was still on the line. "Is that the young man you'll be working for? My, but his voice sounds _spectacular_, Arthur, might I have a word with him my-"

Arthur quickly hung up and deposited the cell phone in his pocket.

"Sorry," Alfred apologized with a laugh. His blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses, and Arthur was once again amazed at the youthful face, even more so since it was all in person. The pictures had been lovely enough.

_No one should be this attractive_, Arthur thought, inwardly scowling.

"I should have called before coming over," Alfred continued. "But, I mean, I was super excited! I got a few offers for campaign managers, but not one who was _British_!" He shook his head, laughing once again. "Plus, you seem real good, you know? I mean, at managing campaigns."

"Well, I've never done it before, honestly," Arthur admitted. "I thought I told you."

"Oh, you did, you did! It's just that, well, since you've never done it, you were cheaper." Alfred's expression grew slightly nervous, and Arthur felt a blush coming to his own face. "I-I mean, that's not the _only_ reason, of course! Like, you really knew what you were talking about, and you're only, what, twenty-five?"

Arthur chuckled. "Well, you're only twenty-three, and already running for a spot in the Virginia Senate. That's rather impressive."

"Aw, shucks." Alfred snorted and waved it off, smiling proudly. "It's really nothing special. I just wanna give back to my community some, you know? Help out the good people of Lynchburg."

Nodding, Arthur said, "And that's still very admirable. Weren't you the youngest member serving on the school board?"

"Um, yeah." Alfred rubbed at the back of his neck. "I mean, c'mon, it really ain't nothing special. Like, I'm just interested in politics, is all."

The two stood awkwardly for a few seconds before Arthur remembered his manners. "Oh, do come in! Sorry, I should have invited you in the moment I-"

"No, seriously, don't worry about it!" Alfred grinned and stepped inside, looking around. "Haven't had much of a chance to settle in, have you?"

"Ah, no, unfortunately." Arthur closed the door and cleared his throat. "I'll be going out to get some furniture tomorrow. Hopefully, I'll find everything I need."

"You got a car?"

Arthur cursed, then sighed. "Well, I didn't think that one through," he mumbled. "No, I still need to go out and get my license for Virginia and...well, okay, I can save furniture shopping for next week."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "And sleep on the floor until then? Hell no, I'm not going to let you do that!" He placed his hands on his hips and gave another wide grin (and Arthur realized his mouth was _made_ for wide grins). "I've got a pickup truck. We can go shopping for furniture tomorrow!"

He was being far friendlier than he even let on over the phone (which was saying much, for Alfred always struck Arthur as a naturally friendly person. At least, from what he heard over their calls).

"Are, er, politicians always this close with their campaign managers?" he decided to ask, both inquisitive and taken back.

"Hell if I know," came Alfred's reply, much quicker than Arthur anticipated. "But we're gonna be friends, aren't we? I mean, I know you work for me and all, well...not really _for _me, more like _with_ me, and since we're work partners, we can also be friends, right? You know, drinking on the weekends, work on the weekdays?"

Arthur raised his large, bushy eyebrows. "I'm surprised," he said. "I thought you came from a religious family."

"Huh?"

"The drinking, I mean. I didn't know you drank."

Alfred snorted. "Artie, you got a lot to learn about us Virginia folk, don't you?"

"Oh, please, that's just an exaggeration of your accent."

"Only slightly." Alfred patted Arthur's shoulder, laughing once more. "But, uh, yeah, I drink. Not much. Like, I enjoy a beer every so often. And some wine. But, uh, I'm not a crazy drunk. I mean, most of my family drinks. Like I said, I do come from a religious family, but we enjoy our beer as much as anyone, you know. Shit, man, I've seen my dad's own _pastor_ drink. I dunno how you guys are in Britain, but church people drinking isn't uncommon."

Arthur didn't know what he had expected. He knew a few Catholics back home who drank. He just expected Francis' words to be true; that all the religious Southerners were prudes who wouldn't even dare _look_ at alcohol. Obviously, he had some rethinking to do on the people of Virginia. At least, the religious people of Virginia.

"Oh, well..." He shrugged. "Yes, I would like that. Drinking, I mean. N-No, er, being friends and, yes, hanging out on the weekend."

Alfred's face lit up in a beam. "Awesome!" he said. "And we can go shopping for your furniture tomorrow, right? We have a few weeks before we should start campaigning. Elections aren't until November, so we'll have a few months before things _really_ start getting serious."

"How serious do they get here in America?"

"Eh, pretty fucking chaotic. I mean, I've been involved in some other campaigns, just volunteer stuff, and I had people threatening to kill me."

Arthur blanched.

"Lovely," he said.

"American politics for you." Alfred clapped his hands together. "Well, uh, anything else you'd like to know, or should we talk more tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow sounds all right," Arthur responded, still a bit nervous now that he realized what he was getting himself into. "I have one or two questions, but they can wait."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Alfred nodded. "Okay, then. Um, hey, before we shop, maybe I can take you out to lunch? Nothing formal or, you know, anything. There's a real nice diner a few blocks away from the furniture store, and they make good tea. I mean, since you're British and all."

Arthur smirked. "I think I'll pass," he said. "I'm not entirely, er, willing to try any sort of Southern tea."

"Why? We have some _good_ sweet tea."

And that was exactly what Arthur was unwilling to try. "I'll pass."

Alfred sighed. "Oh, fine, whatever. I mean, I'd pass on drinking your prissy tea, anyway."

"H-Hey!" Arthur narrowed his eyes. "A man who drinks tea like an Englishman is a true gentleman!"

"Or just gay."

It hit right on the mark, and Arthur would have laughed if he suddenly wasn't so concerned with the fact that Alfred really might _not_ like the fact that he was gay. Instead, he gave Alfred a full-out glare. "Drinking tea is_ not_ gay," he snapped. "To imply as much is just ridiculous."

He wasn't entirely certain he'd want to spend much more time with Alfred after this. It wasn't because the lad was boring, and it wasn't because Arthur was angry with him. On the contrary, he found him delightful, and he knew what he said was just a joke. However, he didn't think Alfred would find _him_ interesting. After all, if Alfred really was so turned-off to gays, how on earth could he and Arthur ever hope to function as friends?

The situation was distressing, and Arthur looked away, ignoring the way Alfred's eyes widened in shock. "I-I didn't mean to be offensive or anything!" the American exclaimed in place of an apology."I was just joking, you know! I'm just, you know, well...okay, I really don't know, but we tease around a lot about the British over here. I'm sure you've heard shit like this, right?"

Arthur _had_ actually, from Francis, but it was different hearing it from a straight, Christian man. "Well, yes, but that was, er, another situation."

"Another situation?" Alfred bit his lip. "L-Look, I'm real sorry. I didn't mean any harm by it, honest! I don't think you're gay if you drink tea. Hell, I don't think you're gay at all! Straight as a line! Minus the accent, I mean. But that's a _joke_."

Arthur noticed how pathetic and unsure Alfred seemed now, and he found himself wanting to laugh once more. He didn't, though. He _did_ roll his eyes and looked down at his hands. "I-I'm sorry I got so short with you, then," he mumbled. "But, er, do you really think I'm as straight as a line?"

Sensing redemption, Alfred quickly nodded his head. "Yeah, totally! Not one gay gene in you!"

Arthur _really_ wanted to laugh.

"Well, hopefully everyone else will think so, too. I wouldn't want to completely ruin your election."

He was met with silence, and when he dared to glance up from his fingers, he noticed a puzzled look on Alfred's face. "Huh?"

"I..." Arthur swallowed. "I don't want to ruin your election."

"Again, huh?" Alfred smiled slightly. "People won't stop voting for me just because they _think _my campaign manager is gay. Only fools are that petty, and the majority of Lynchburg knows me, anyway, from my time serving on the school board. I mean, you're not even gonna be in the spotlight, though. They probably won't know a damn thing about _you_ until later. Unless you wanna, I dunno, take interviews or something."

Arthur shook his head. "I'm good," he muttered. "I just...figured the people around here wouldn't take kindly if I _was_ gay." He made no mention of the fact that he indeed was. Better not to touch up on his sexuality.

"Man, no one gives a flying shit if you're gay or not," Alfred responded. "Honestly. Now, if I was, yeah, my chances might be...well, I dunno." He smirked. "Gay people are put up on pedestals now by a lot of people in America."

"But not all," Arthur pointed out. "And I heard that, down in the Southern states, they aren't looked on very highly."

Alfred sighed. "Maybe. Maybe not. I...I dunno." He shrugged. "I don't care all that much. It's what's in here that counts." He brought a hand up to his heart and smiled at Arthur. "Oh, and here." The hand moved to tap at his forehead. "I've seen some real stupid people vote before. I don't look highly on them, gay or not."

Feeling just a little bit relieved, Arthur nodded. "I do agree on that one. It's what's inside that counts."

"Yep!" The cheery nature of Alfred was coming back, and Arthur couldn't help but smile. It was contagious. "So, uh, we still up for tomorrow? I promise, unless you suck at your job, you won't make me lose the elections."

Arthur wasn't so sure about that. Alfred might have lived in the city his entire life, but he seemed to love it, which would probably make him blind to its faults. Surely he ignored what he saw of his church family if it meant he could continue to view them as the best. Most of the religious people Arthur met did the same.

Still, he didn't want to hold it against him. It was in his nature to act in such a way. It was what made him, well, him. "Sure," he said. "Sure, I'd like to go shopping. Though I'd rather pay for my own lunch."

"Suit yourself!" Alfred said. "'Snot like I'm taking you on a _date_."

"Yes, because only the British tea drinkers do that, hm?"

Alfred looked both amused and apprehensive. "Uh, will I get you mad again if I agree?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and gestured towards the door. "My god, Mr. Jones, are you honestly worried about _my_ opinion?"

"You're running my campaign," Alfred joked, stepping outside. "Wouldn't wanna get on your bad side!"

Arthur smirked. "No, I will not get mad again if you agree," he answered.

"Good. 'Cause I agree." Alfred gave a wicked grin before waving his hand. "See you tomorrow, then! Eleven o' clock. Be ready!"

And as Arthur watched him walk off (the boy even walked in a jolly manner), he couldn't help but lose all signs of his anxiety. Alfred would like him for what was on the inside.

That certainly did not mean Arthur would have to tell him anything, though. "What is it again?" he murmured to himself as he closed the door. "Ah, yes. 'Don't ask, don't tell'."

He'd enact that for himself.

* * *

**Firstly, I do _not_ live in Virginia. However, I do plan on moving up there in a couple of years, because it's _gorgeous_. So much history and mountains and friendly people! That being said, the South always gets these bad names. I've actually heard people (mostly online) talk about how awful the South is to gays. While it's true that the majority of the Southern states are, in fact, Republican, I've seen no sign that we're _awful_ to gays. I wanna make it clear in the story; nobody is gonna be stoning Arthur. He and Alfred _will_ receive opposition later in the future (I'm not blind; people do oppose those of different sexualities, despite the fact that their sexualities have nothing to do with work ethic and morals), but it's not going to be as bad as I've seen in other fanfictions, simply because I've honestly never seen any of that, despite living down in the south my entire life.  
**

**Also, in Lynchburg, the school board is appointed by a city council (i think?), so Alfred will be new to campaigns and shit. You'll be seeing more politics next chapter, as well as Alfred's stance on certain points. Some parts of this story might be controversial, so if you hate, um...a mixture of both Democrat and Republican viewpoints, might wanna scurry away. And, if you're offended, I probably won't give a flying shit. 8D I warned you, and I'm a bitch, anyway. *flails about wildly* Fear me and my bitchy attitude, rawr.**

**That being said, I promise I'm not going to purposely go out and be all offensive. I do that sometimes, but not typically in fanfiction. And not here. Here we'll just have the love story of two gay men in a gay world eating gay sammiches and discussing gay politics. Gay. *throws rainbow everywhere***

**MORE OF THAT BEING SAID, please take the time to leave a review. Or to follow. Or favorite. Or something that needs editing. Or send me a message saying, "You suck," to which I'll probably correct you by saying, "I suck _well_." Until next time!**


	3. Chapter II

**I swear, this chapter consists of nothing but dialogue. It's probably really boring. I do apologize.**

**As usual, it _is_ a political story, so there _will_ be controversial issues here. If you disagree with anything being said, that's perfectly fine. If you wanna leave a scathing review about how much you disagree, be my guest. However, I trust the most of you will be able to handle the issues perfectly fine, because you guys really rock. :D**

**I would have gotten a beta (I had someone in mind), but I didn't want to load her with too much, and this is already late as is. The next one will come out sooner, promise.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

"Emma's Diner," Arthur read, just a little bit distastefully. He didn't know how much he could trust from a place called _Emma's Diner_. He wasn't the most wealthy of men, especially not in England, but even he had class.

Alfred, though, seemed to mistake his initial disgust for curiosity. "Yep!" the young man exclaimed, excitedly gesturing towards the sign. "Emma's Diner! Emma's a sweet lady, too. Cooks real well. I'd suggest getting one of her hamburgers; those are straight from heaven."

Arthur shrugged his shoulders as he and Alfred stepped inside. He was never one for hamburgers. It was just a big slab of meat in between two pieces of bread. There wasn't anything particularly special about hamburgers.

The waitresses greeted Alfred like old friends would, and Arthur almost felt left out before Alfred said, "Oh, and this is my new campaign manager, Arthur!" They gave him large smiles, and Arthur nervously smiled back. It was an overly enthusiastic greeting, but when Alfred mentioned, "He's British!" the enthusiasm shot up about ten notches.

"British?!" The dyed-blonde waitress gasped. "Like, straight from Britain?"

"Yep!" Alfred looked proud as he clapped Arthur's shoulder, and Arthur wondered if this was like his show-and-tell. "British-born and raised!"

Arthur was _positive_ this was Alfred's show-and-tell. Everyone was crowding him, and Alfred just stood there with a grin on his face, as if _he_ was the one they were fawning over.

Once they were away from the crowd and had placed their order, Alfred clapped his hands together. "Well, now," he said. "Wasn't that exciting?"

Arthur scoffed. "A tad bit overwhelming," he muttered, shaking his head. "Honestly, what is the deal with the English in America? It's not like women back home swoon over American men." He sipped at his water as Alfred took a large gulp of tea.

_Iced_ tea. It was an insult to tea.

"They should," Alfred defended, wiping his lips with his napkin. "Especially good, old, Southern men. With the accent and everything. They should swoon over that." Before Arthur could say a word, Alfred continued. "There are actually some mountains a little bit to the northwest, and the people up there sound super Scottish." He nodded seriously. "I've got a cousin from up there, and boy, his words sounded funny! Like, anytime he said _mouse_, it sounded just like _moose_. So he was trying to tell me there was a dead mouse in his pantry, and I thought he said moose, and I got excited over nothing." Alfred snorted and crossed his arms. "Oh, but I _have_ seen a moose before!"

"Really?" Arthur didn't know they'd be talking about Alfred's strange life. He thought they'd focus more on politics.

"Yeah! See, I have a half-brother who lives up in Canada, and there are moose there!" Alfred laughed, then began to play around with the straw in his drink. "Big, smelly things. Mattie let me pet it. Oh, Mattie's my brother. His real name is Matthew, but I really just call him Mattie."

While Arthur was quite pleased that he and Alfred were getting along well enough to discuss Alfred's personal information, he had rather been hoping for some actual political conversations. He wanted to get started on his job as a campaign manager (he was taking it quite seriously), but Alfred wasn't making that very easy at all.

Before Arthur could open his mouth to say a word, Alfred suddenly asked, "You got any brothers?"

Arthur sighed. "Yes, three. They're all pains. Now, can we-"

"They live in Britain?"

"_Yes_, Alfred, look, I'd like to discuss more important matters."

Alfred blinked. "Um, sure, I'd like to do that, too, but I thought we might get to know each other a little bit first. You know, so it won't be as awkward when we actually do start, uh, talking about politics."

Arthur supposed he did have a point. After all, if they were to be working together for who-knew-how-long, they really _should_ take the time to figure each other out. But Arthur didn't want to do that at the moment. He knew enough about Alfred, and Alfred knew enough about him, to get started working. "Your idea makes sense, I guess," the Englishman carefully stated. "But I do believe we already know a great deal about one another. I-I mean, your brother and where he lives, me and where I came from, the whole shebang. If you don't mind, though, I would like to engage in a political conversation, so I can know your standpoints on certain subjects, and so I can better, er, advertise you, if you will."

When there was no response, Arthur raised his eyebrows. Alfred was staring at him with a blank expression, but after more than a couple seconds, a grin came upon the young man's face. "You sound old," he said. "Maybe it's this two-year difference between us."

"Maybe," Arthur managed to hiss out, gripping the tabletop tightly.

Once he noticed that Arthur was upset, Alfred's smile melted away. "I-I didn't mean it like that, honest! I just think it's funny!" He cleared his throat and crossed his fingers over the table. "Uh, anyway, political shit. Yeah. What would you like to know?"

Arthur dug into his pocket to pull out his small notepad and pen, happy they were finally getting somewhere. "Just what you think on different topics, really."

"Sure." Alfred nodded. "Yeah, sure. Uh, what do you want me to start with first?"

Giving himself a moment to think, Arthur finally said, "Er, how about taxes? That...that's going to be one of the most important aspects you'll focus on, at least while serving as a member of the Virginia Senate."

"Taxes are boring," Alfred groaned, slamming his head into the table. He didn't get much complaining in (and Arthur didn't get much fussing at him in) before their food arrived, the waitress smiling brightly and asking if they needed much else. Arthur assured her they were fine (Alfred was still pouting), and she went about her merry way, leaving Arthur free to criticize Alfred's attitude.

"I don't care if they're boring," he growled. "It's still a very important part of your political career, and as your campaign manager, it is my job to make sure that you have an actual stance to go off of. People won't vote for you if you simply ignore the taxes! I mean, come on, Alfred, what is the bloody point of running for office if you're going to side-step anything important?"

Alfred glared up at him. "Geez, _Mom_," he muttered. With a sigh, he settled back in his seat, clearing his throat. "No, I understand. I just hate all this fighting about taxes. Like, one side wants to abolish them completely, and the other side wants them higher so that we can pay for more public service projects."

"And what's your side?"

The young American blinked. "Well." He looked at odds with himself. "I-I mean, I see the good in both of the sides. I don't think taxes should be completely abolished, because they are beneficial to our society, in a way, but I also don't believe we should raise them any time we want to do _anything_. Private corporations can usually handle things better than we can. For example, have you taken a look at the USPS recently? I mean, it costs 49 cents to buy a fucking stamp." He threw up his hands in mock anger. "49 cents!"

"What is the USPS?" Arthur asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Oh, it's the United States Postal Service. It's a federal program, obviously, and it's practically bankrupt at this point. So half these government programs that come out do end up failing in the long run, and all these private businesses are the ones that succeed. Like, you taken a glance at Wal-Mart or McDonald's?"

"Oh, Lord, McDonald's."

"Yeah, McDonald's. They're doing real well, and they're privately-owned! If the government took McDonald's over, I doubt anything would work out." Alfred fell silent suddenly and looked thoughtful. "Though, if I became president, I might just take it over. I could have free hamburgers whenever I wanted."

Arthur groaned. "Alfred, please do focus."

"Right, right, sorry." Alfred smiled sheepishly. "My stance on taxes. Right. Okay, so I think we need taxes for certain things. Things that _everyone_ uses. Paving the roads, for example. That's a big one. Um, installing light fixtures to make driving safer. Public facilities that everyone uses. Stuff like that. However, I don't want people paying taxes for shit they're never gonna use. Um, let's see, like...like..."

"Like homeschool children paying taxes for public schools?" Arthur supplied, jotting things down in his notebook.

Alfred snapped his fingers. "Exactly! Paying for public school and never even using it. I mean, what a load of dung is that?"

"Hm."

"And certain things about health care make me iffy. Some people I know hardly ever get sick, and hardly ever have to take trips to the doctor. How come they have to pay the same amount as someone who's _always_ sick?"

Arthur looked over at him. "But they're helping people," he pointed out. "I'd feel fine knowing that my money was going towards some poor child with cancer, wouldn't you?"

It seemed to have struck something with Alfred, and he blinked. "Well, yeah, but it means nothing when it's forced. Charity isn't supposed to be forced by government. Like, what if they held a gun to our heads and said, 'Run this marathon, it's for a good cause, else we'll shoot you or send you to jail'?" The American chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "Seems like stealing, if you ask me."

"Stealing?" Arthur sounded incredulous. "Don't be ridiculous, it isn't stealing! It's-"

"It's taking money away from a family who earned it, and giving it to another family. I don't care if the other family needs it or not; they shouldn't have to take money from an unwilling source to get what they actually need." Alfred's lips were pulled tight in a frown, and he seemed so sure of himself that Arthur doubted he could argue on the subject anymore.

He cleared his throat and glanced down at his notebook. "So lower taxes, then? A conservative-"

"I never said that."

"You never disputed it."

Alfred took a bite of his burger and glared at Arthur.

The glare not affecting him one bit (he had grown accustomed to it, living in a household with his annoying brothers), Arthur continued. "Alfred, your stance here seems very conservative. Why are you running as an Independent, then, if you're not going to be making up your own ideas?"

"I am making up my own ideas," Alfred snapped after he had finally swallowed what was in his mouth. "But, sometimes, I take ideas from others because they're _good_ ideas. Maybe lowering taxes completely isn't the best idea out there, but it sure as hell beats shooting them up simply because you wanna go around and _help_ people. See, that's the problem with most politicians these days; they claim they're doing everything for the good of the people, but then they make the people do everything for the good of the people, and they sit back on their asses and enjoy the profits they make out of it, because somewhere in the long-run, _they've_ become what's good for the people." He opened his mouth, thought for a few seconds, then shook his head. "Excuse me. They _think_ they've become what's good for the people. In reality, they just steal. Look, if we allow them to keep taxing, to keep taking money, they're going to get greedier and greedier. You don't think they get a huge profit out of what they take? People are naturally greedy, no two ways about it. Once they see that money in their hands, they're not gonna give it up."

It was Arthur's turn to fall silent and listen now. He thoughtfully sipped at his drink, trying to think upon Alfred's words. They actually were intelligent words. They conveyed the other side of the tax-argument brilliantly. "In big government, greedy government," he finally started. "Are we referring here to communist governments?"

"Oh, god."

"Because it sure does sound like you're worried that the United States government could become-"

Once again, he was cut off. "_Could_ become?" Alfred scoffed. "Jesus, Arthur, we're already becoming a communist government."

"You sound like one of those conservative nutcases."

"I'm an Independent nutcase," Alfred countered. "And one who really hates communism and socialism at that."

Arthur nodded, and jotted this information down in his notebook. He really wondered just how much conservative values from his family and community Alfred had taken while deciding his political platform. "Let's dive into a more controversial issue, shall we?"

"Fuck."

Arthur smiled gently. "It won't be that bad, I assure you. Gay marriage?"

Alfred's head shot up and he raised his eyebrows. "Geez, what is it with you and gayness?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"One minute you're worried that you'd mess up my career if people even suspected you slept around with men, and now you're telling me I gotta have a stance on gay marriage?" Alfred laughed, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "Is this just a European thing?"

"Must be."

"Hm, but my stance." He tapped his burger and pursed his lips. "Well, I mean, I could honestly care less if Joe loves Mike, or if Susie loves Lucy. I mean, it's none of my business, you know?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I never said your stance on homosexuality in general," he grumbled. "Gay marriage. It _will_ be an important part of politics, I promise you that much."

"What's your stance?"

The question was so sudden that Arthur had to take a few seconds to comprehend it. "I- what? Wh-What I think about it?"

Alfred nodded in confirmation.

Realizing he'd have to explain it sooner or later, Arthur took a deep breath. "Er, well, I-I think that, um, anyone should be allowed to marry."

"Really?"

Arthur was sure his face was on fire. Alfred would figure it out in time; he wasn't an idiot. "Yes. Really."

"So,uh, a pedophile could marry a-"

"God, what the _bloody_ hell are you talking about?" Arthur hissed, reaching forward to grab his drink for lack of anything else to do.

Alfred grinned. "You said anyone should be allowed to marry! So, by that logic, an old man can marry a young girl."

"It isn't consensual."

"And how do you know? Maybe that young girl really loves that old man."

"Children aren't capable of feeling that sort of love."

"And who told you that?"

Arthur was at a loss for words.

"They love their parents, don't they?"

"Er, I mean, sure, but that's a completely different sort of love," the Englishman stammered out, eyes darting from the people beside them (who weren't paying much attention) to Alfred's grinning and triumphant face.

"Okay. What if their parent wants to-"

"_Fuck_ you," Arthur snapped. "You know what I meant! I think men should be allowed to marry men and women should be allowed to marry women!"

"Polygamous relationships, then." Alfred seemed determined to continue. "What do you think about that?"

Arthur blinked. "Well, I do believe they're strange, but-"

"Bestiality. Don't look at me like that, Artie, people are already taught to be sensitive to others who, er, participate in bestiality."

Arthur was really at a complete loss of words.

"I'm not trying to, like, argue or, um, completely change the subject and abolish gay marriage. I just wanted you to know that saying shit like 'love is love' is kinda stupid, because where do we draw the line? Is this it? Gay marriage and nothing else? Something's gonna rise up again, you know. People are gonna demand that they be allowed to marry whoever and whatever they want to marry." He shrugged. "I've nothing against gays, honestly. I just think the argument gets old after a bit."

"Oh."

"My stance, though." Alfred cleared his throat. "I'd be against it, because I know a lot of people who don't wanna recognize a gay marriage. Religions, you know. They're against it. And that's okay. However, I also understand that, well, maybe these people do deserve to marry. After all, they _are_ people, and they do want the same benefits as any straight couple can get. I just don't think others should be forced to recognize their marriage."

"So what do you suggest, then?" Arthur asked, relaxing slightly now that he knew Alfred wasn't against his lifestyle.

Alfred, however, just shrugged. "I honestly have no clue," he mumbled. "I don't think either side will ever be happy. I feel like I'm stuck in the middle. I don't mind them getting married, but at the same time, I really don't wanna force others to recognize it. It's just, like, this endless battle that will probably have no consensual agreement to come out of it."

Arthur nodded his head. "I see," he responded. And, surprisingly enough, he did see Alfred's views. Granted, he still thought a marriage between two of the same gender should be legalized (to him, there should have been no argument in the first place), but the more he thought about Alfred's religious upbringing and shockingly sound logic, the more he realized that perhaps his viewpoint wasn't fair to others. Maybe it wasn't fair to force such a thing on religious people.

But it wasn't fair for them to force their own views on him.

"To be honest," Alfred stated. "Both sides are wrong in how they try and get their way. I think if they just stopped the bickering, they might be able to come to their senses and figure out a way to please everyone."

"That won't happen."

"Nope. Never will." Alfred finished off his burger, and then looked over at Arthur's untouched food. "Might wanna stop asking me questions and get to eating that meal. It'll go bad if we leave it out in my truck while we get your furniture."

* * *

Once done with lunch (Arthur just had to throw most of his away, as he found he wasn't all that hungry, and when Alfred complained about the waste of food, Arthur reminded him that it didn't come from his pocket), the two men began their shopping.

"It has to be cheap," Arthur had explained first thing. "None of this Ikea nonsense, you hear?"

"Loud and clear, captain!" Alfred responded. "We don't have an Ikea near here, anyway." And so he drove them to a generic and cheap furniture store, which Arthur saw absolutely no problem with.

"I think most of these are second-handed." Alfred tapped one of the desks, then pointed at the scratches on the side. "See?"

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't really bother me. Besides, once you run for president, I'll make plenty of money being your manager."

"Oh, that'll be the day," Alfred breathed.

"What? Are you planning on it, or not?"

"No, I am." Alfred's smile grew nervous, and Arthur stared at him in confusion. "It's just, um, I know I won't win."

Was that all? Arthur sighed. Alfred's fears were as generic as the store itself. "I have faith in you, lad, and I just properly met you yesterday. That's quite a short amount of time to gain faith in someone."

"Oh, yeah, I know you do, but I don't have faith that the American people will choose the best. After all, I _am_ an Independent. No one goes for the Independent. There has never been an Independent president, _ever_, unless you count George Washington."

"Well there you have it. You can be the next George Washington."

"I'm _serious_, Artie!" Alfred whined, hovering awkwardly behind the elder man as they looked over the chairs. "People have already decided who they're gonna vote for! It isn't a matter of the best candidate, it's a matter of which one bears the title of your party."

Arthur smirked. "And this is why you have me as your campaign manager," he responded, then suddenly frowned. "And who gave you the right to call me Artie? Honestly, does my name have an 'I' in it?"

"Get over it," Alfred grumbled. "Can we stick to the main point?"

"And the main point is that I do believe you can become president if you honestly, truly try to be. And, as your campaign manager, I will do everything in my power to make sure your goal succeeds."

Alfred raised his eyebrows. "Well, it isn't exactly a goal, you see. It's just my goal to run and...and try."

"Try is all we can do," Arthur stated. "And I would be very pleased if you tried."

"You just want that so that you can get a bigger income."

"Well, I wouldn't say no to one, would I?" Arthur smiled, which prompted Alfred to give him one in return.

The young American shrugged. "We'll see. Anyway, you said you don't have a bed yet, right? How about this one?" He gestured over to a small, single bed with a grin. "It's cheap, too."

Arthur barely glanced it over before blurting out, "I'll take it."

"Really?"

"Yes. I don't have much money, and, like you said, it's cheap." The price certainly wasn't too bad at all, and Arthur could live with a smaller, more homely bed until he earned enough money to buy something a little bit more extravagant. He never did care much for the fancier things in life, anyway; he was good with what he had.

Alfred nodded. "'Kay. You want, like, a couch now? Maybe a small coffee table of some sort? I'd buy you a dining room set, but, c'mon, you live in a fucking apartment; who's gonna come over and expect to eat at a nice dining room?" When Arthur glanced over at him, Alfred added, "Hey, I'll let you borrow a small table and a chair or two in case you _do_ invite people over."

"That's supposing I'll make friends."

"Well, you've already got one." Alfred grinned and nudged his shoulder. "And you're gonna be talking to a ton of people since you're my campaign manager and all. It's only natural that you'll strike a bond with one or two people, you know."

Arthur didn't exactly suspect that would happen. He had never gotten along well with others. It might have been part of his pride, but he _wasn't_ the most social person on the planet. He just couldn't find things that would click with others and strike up bonds. However, he wasn't going to be a downer and tell all of that to Alfred. The man was just trying to help, after all.

"We'll see," is what he said instead. "Now, are we going to get this bed to your truck or what?"

It was later in the afternoon when the two were finally done with their furniture shopping. Alfred was kind enough to help Arthur set the furniture up, and Arthur was kind enough to call for takeout (he didn't have any groceries just yet, but he supposed Alfred wouldn't miss the taste of his own cooking).

"I had a good day today," Arthur said as he was seeing Alfred out the door. "I'm fairly excited to begin campaigning with you. I can already tell that you're going to be a popular success to everyone who will be voting."

Alfred just snorted, clearly amused by such a thought. "We'll have to see," he said, nodding his head. "Maybe, maybe not. At least I got an awesome manager on my side, yeah?" He gave Arthur's shoulder a pat. "I'll be seeing you around, then."

"Yes, you, too, Alfred." Arthur returned Alfred's smile and watched him head out the door.

He was very interested as to how everything would play out.

* * *

**I like everything but the ending. Do not judge, I was watching The Matrix and trying to finish this for you guys.**

**Taxes: I believe I've stated in my profile before that I'm conservative, so I obviously believe in lower taxes (and I personally blame the Lincoln administration for kinda screwing everything up, but that's my own personal opinion and has nothing to do with my story, though I will also state that I dislike Lincoln, as seen from my profile). Alfred is Independent, and he _does_ take ideas from both sides, so unlike myself, he's not one for abolishing taxes. He just wants to get rid of the taxes that everyone pays but only benefits a certain group. Very conservative still, I do admit. Arthur, on the other hand, is a little bit more liberal in the sense that he believes, "Well, so long as it helps out people, what's the big deal?" (And I totes disagree with Arthur here, but he's logical and can listen to other opinions and, I mean, I _made_ him that way, so whatever.)**

**Gay Marriage: Alfred come out of the closet and kiss Arthur already, omfg. So Alfred is hanging onto his conservative and religious upbringing in this regard. He doesn't agree with gay marriage at the moment. Will that change? Probably not, honestly. Alfred acts a lot on emotions, but when it comes down to it, he can be very logical. He also follows the Constitution very heavily (since America's ideals were founded upon it, ya know), and I believe he disagrees with the idea of trampling on the rights of the religious and forcing them to recognize gay marriage (because that would be what it would come to in the end). However, he also doesn't like the idea of completely outlawing it and pushing them aside (as that is a tad bit ridiculous). I stand with Alfred in this regard; both sides have stupid ideas on how to fix it. His decision is the same as mine, and you'll see it come into play later on when this stance starts to really matter. Arthur, on the other hand, believes it should totally be lawful for gays to get married. Again, more liberal in his opinion. I want Arthur and Alfred to play off each other and start to understand different viewpoints. Does it happen like this in real life? Aw, hell no. This is fucking fanfiction, though, and I do what I want. (As a side-note, the argument Alfred had with Arthur, and the examples of pedophilia and bestiality, are based upon an argument I myself had with someone. Let it be noted that it was still a very polite argument, and the person I debated with was very kind and thoughtful, and I did my best to return such an attitude. I just think I'm a bitch in general, though, so I doubt I was as kind as she was.)  
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**George Washington: He was Independent, though he leaned more towards a Federalist stance (like John Adams and Alexander Hamilton). No president has ever actually _been_ an Independent, though (George Washington is, technically, unaffiliated, and therefore not really considered much of anything). **

**(Remember I said I wouldn't put personal opinion in this story? _Hahahahahahahaha_. I suck.)**

**Anyway, I do hope you enjoyed this installment! The next will have less talking and more arguing (since I'll be introducing the Republican and Democrat runners, awwwww yissss, competition between our lovely Alfred and them with Arthur kinda in the middle and just trying to do his job). If you have any comments/questions/concerns, shoot me up a PM, or just leave a review. I like reviews. :3**


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